


Scream Until Your Lungs Give Out

by The_Button_Harlequin



Series: Hannibal Advent 2015 [6]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Banshee!Will, Dark Will, Dark Will Graham, Fantasy, Food is People, Hannibal is a Cannibal, I know, Jack is the one that bound him, Jack uses Will as a serial killer detector, M/M, Someone Help Will Graham, Someone Helps Will Graham, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Will eats people, Will is very not happy about that, and yes it's you Hannibal, but not all the way, it takes place as the usual series except Will is a Banshee, the food is always people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 11:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5289434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Button_Harlequin/pseuds/The_Button_Harlequin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Will wondered what it would be like if Jack was ever in the place of their murderer, lost and lonely and desperate for someone to understand him. He wondered whether Jack ever felt that piercing out of place knife Will did whenever he was in a group of humans and providing them a service to save the ones who would be spared from Will's death cry. Will wondered whether Jack would mind if Will took the extra organs from the morgue again so that he could live for just a little longer, whatever that meant. He had to remind himself not to ask. </p><p>Will wondered whether Jack was concerned at all that his pet fae monster was ignoring the need to be fed again so that he could escape. He never wanted to fight against his instincts just so he could catch more murderers. Catch more criminals.</p><p>Save more lives."</p><p>Will is a banshee unwillingly working for the FBI. Hannibal Lecter might be his ticket to freedom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scream Until Your Lungs Give Out

**Author's Note:**

> No one has ever asked for this but I love au and I love fantasy au specifically and I've never read anything with a banshee in it so guess what? Banshee Will Graham motherfuckers. Yes I know that they're specified as women, but I think we can all agree that Will Graham is far prettier than many women so fuck it, he's a fucking banshee. I promise that I write faster with encouragement. 
> 
> Also, if you have any requests for the story, I'll happily look at them and see if they can be incorporated some how.

“What do you see?”

Will wanted to bite out that he saw plenty, not that Jack would ever be able to see because of his eyes. His mortal eyes. He didn’t see the crimes like through the eyes of the killer, or at times the deceased. He wouldn’t know how hard it was to go against his nature, to know what it was to murder and not feast, to see the dead and not sing them a song of mourning before they passed. Will held his tongue though, and instead began to describe all that the crime scene had to offer.

He finished with a heavy summary of, “He’s lonely and looking for someone who understands him.”

“How?”

“He has a set of markers that he’s looking for,” Will points out the woman’s tattooed arms and vibrant blue hair, “Seeking out uniqueness is one of them, the other being something that they are, some personality trait that he sees in them. By the contents of her car and with speaking to the friends and family, if I had to guess then I’d say it was her pervading cheerfulness.”

“Not something that most banshee are, then.”

Will’s mouth twisted and he looked down at his shoes. “No. They’re not.”

Jack rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So if we were to look for someone looking to kill girls for their sparkling personality then we’re looking for someone who can observe them for large amounts of time.”

Will nodded. “Someone who lives on the fringes of society. Someone who’s also able to move around largely undetected between the places that those girls frequented. He’d be shy, unassuming. You’d probably think he was an accountant by how little he shines.”

Before the words were even finished, Jack was dialing and ordering those on the other end of the line to find the man. The murderer. The lonely one.

Will stood beside Jack even when he wondered what it would be like if Jack was ever in the place of their murderer, lost and lonely and desperate for someone to understand him. He wondered whether Jack ever felt that piercing out of place knife Will did whenever he was in a group of humans and providing them a service to save the ones who would not die. Will wondered whether Jack would mind if Will took the extra organs from the morgue again so that he could live for just a little longer, whatever that meant. He had to remind himself not to ask.

Will wondered whether Jack was concerned at all that his pet fae monster was ignoring the need to be fed again so that he could escape. He never wanted to fight against his instincts just so he could catch more murderers. Catch more criminals.

Save more lives.

Jack snapped his phone shut and gave Will his attention again. “Good work, Graham. Since the victims frequented only a few places together, we should have suspects by the end of the week.”

Will nodded again, trying not to scowl at the stab of _tired_ he felt. “Can I go home now?”

Jack only gave him a vaguely irritated look. “You know I can’t allow that, Will.”

Will gave a heavy sigh, an equally heavy hand running down his face. “Then can I go back to Wolf Trap?” _I’m tired, you’ll never let me go home._

Jack observed him for a moment before reluctantly nodding. “Go on to Wolf Trap then,” he ordered, “but I expect you to be ready to come back if we need you.” _If I need you to see again._

Will’s only response was a curt “Thank you,” before finally allowing his legs to carry him all the way to the beat up old car that had been his first major purchase after being leashed to the FBI. 

After being bound to Jack.

* * *

“This isn’t good for him.”

Jack wanted to roll his eyes at the tired argument he’s had a thousand times before. His respect for Dr. Bloom won out again, though he couldn’t spare her his dry look. “He’s also solving more cases in quicker times than any other profiler in history, thereby he’s also saving more lives than any other along the way.”

Alana leaned over the chair she stood behind, her fine boned hands gripping the back of it so hard that Jack wouldn’t have been surprised if the wood cracked. “Saving lives does not need to come at the cost of another. At least let him have a day off, or, god forbid, a vacation! Just the other day he wouldn’t eat anything, nothing at all. That’s the fourth day in a row, Jack.”

“So his appetite is low, I have no control over that.” _Not that I want to feed his appetite anyways._

He could hardly finish his sentence before Alana pounced with, “But you do have control over the situations that are causing him to lose his appetite. At this rate he’ll end up collapsing before the month is out.”

Jack pulled back his shoulders and folded his fingers together. “Has it occurred to you that he’s just been eating without you there to watch over him?”

Alana’s look could’ve set a glacier on fire. “I’ve been teaching a segment of first response trauma therapy alongside Will this entire week. I like to think that the daily eight hours of shared space has given me a pretty good understanding of his eating habits.”

_Not good enough then._ “So then what do you suggest that I do, Dr. Bloom?” Jack’s voice raised along with his frustration, “Just stop him from saving the lives of people that a serial killer would’ve targeted?”

“No,” Alana’s frustration raised right alongside Jack’s, “but he needs a sturdy foundation and I don’t think that you’re working for him.”

Despite everything, Jack barely managed to avoid flinching. His posture never wavered, but his voiced softened, “Then who should be his new foundation? You?”

Alana’s head shook, her pink painted bird lips pulled into a regretful frown. “No, I’m too close with Will as is. It would be unethical to be his therapist with all our shared history but,” Alana turned a steel steady gaze to Jack, “I know someone who could be.”

* * *

“Will.”

Hunched shoulders stiffened to the point that they felt like they would break. “Another case, Jack?”

Jack’s figure cut like Moses through the Red Sea around the students just leaving Will’s class, some throwing him looks of awe and others observant jealousy. He walked to stand next to Will behind Will’s desk where he was collecting his materials to go home ( _Wolf Trap,_ the voice in his head corrected). 

Jack leaned up against Will’s desk, never taking his eyes off Will as he stated, “I want you to have therapy sessions with Dr. Hannibal Lecter.”

Will’s knee jerk reaction was to slam his course book shut. “What?”

“Completely off the books of course,” Jack specified, observing Will’s messy desk with evenness, “We need you to look as stable as possible for other observing parties.”

“Alana Bloom told you to cut me some slack, didn’t she,” Will finally moved again, placing another paper in a folder. The fondness in his voice was unmistakable. 

“She had some concerns, yes,” Jack said, “mostly due to the fact that it appears as if you’ve stopped eating.” Jack leveled a steely look to him. “Have you stopped eating?”

Will paused in his movements, glancing out of the corner of his eye to Jack’s gaze only to skitter away from it back to the book in his hand again. “I don’t have any fresh meat.”

Jack’s sigh was the very example of measured annoyance, like when a pet refuses to play fetch. “You’re supposed to tell me when you’re running low.”

“I’m not running low,” Will pointed out, “All of it is just unappetizing to the point where I don’t want to eat it.”

“You need to eat, Will,” Jack’s tone brokered no argument, “That isn’t a negotiation.”

_Still not an order._ “I’ll eat something when I can,” Will said truthfully.

Jack paused before ordering, “You will eat to stay within healthy guidelines for banshees. If you are running out of viable foodstuffs, you will alert me before you run out with a minimum of two days advance. Do you understand?”

Will cursed internally. He threw the remainder of his things into the bag. “I understand.”

“Good.” Jack continued to lean up against Will’s desk, Will awkwardly hovering in the same spot as before.

“Are you going to dismiss me?”

“Not yet.” Jack gave a thoughtful pause, ignoring the way Will’s anxious fingers tapped against the leather strap of his shoulder bag, the Will’s eyes flicked back and forth between Jack and the door to relative freedom. He waited until Jack spoke again, “Do you only ever see humans as food?”

Will’s head jerked up with a confused frown before going to the empty desk, just staring at the blank surface, his brows furrowed. “I see humans as a giant obnoxious gong,” he said after a long hesitation, “always there to alert me to my power and force me to remember the rules of my existence. I often see them as something akin to a wild monkey who’s been captured by scientists and, with only scientists for company, has learned to mimic them. Sometimes I see them as finger shadows, showing off the fraction of what they can pretend to be. Most of the time, I see them as children playing dress up.”

Jack let out a long, harsh breath through his nose. This time time, he does not look at Will’s flat, lightless eyes that are the only things that separate him as inhuman. No matter what the light source, Will only seems to absorb, understand, see. What he captures never seems to come back to the surface. Jack wonders if anyone but him has ever noticed.

Jack finally stood up straight, making sure to square his shoulders when facing Will, who was angled between Jack and the door. “You will be on time to your appointment with Dr. Hannibal Lecter, at 7:30 pm this Friday and every other time that you have a scheduled appointment with him thereafter. You will eat to be healthy in the banshee perspective. You will tell me when you need more food at least two days in advance. At no point will you disobey these orders without first alerting me. Do you understand.”

Will jerked into a nod. “I understand.”

“You’re dismissed.”

If Jack hadn’t know that transportation magic was beyond Will, he would have thought he used some of it with how fast he disappeared out the door. Jack sighed through his nose and left in a much more human fashion.


End file.
